


Little One

by striketrue



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Gen, Light Dom/sub, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-02
Updated: 2019-04-02
Packaged: 2020-01-01 03:39:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18327881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/striketrue/pseuds/striketrue
Summary: muriel and the apprentice are horny and kinky hahhahahah my bad





	Little One

**Author's Note:**

> hhhhhhh kinky? also posted on tumblr

Muriel was always easily flustered. You pride yourself on being able to tease him to the moon and back. Soft touches to his chest and neck, gentle kisses to his cheeks and hands, telling him everything you’re going to do to him, and he melts into your hands. Today, you were in the hut with him and Inanna. The soft sounds of rain outside, and the crackling of the fire were background noise, as you and Muriel lay in silence. You lay on his chest, in a nest of furs and soft blankets. You mindlessly run your hands over each other, and the fog that settles over your mind is warm, and comfortable. It’s an odd day, Muriel and you rarely have nothing to do, and he’s rarely ever so adventurous with his touches. His warm fingers trace down your spine, and his other hand gently grips your chin, as he tilts it up to meet him. His kisses are slow, gentle, and intimate. His teeth graze your bottom lip, and you find yourself arching into him, trying to get closer and closer. He presses his hand into your lower back, then moves it lower to grip the back of your thigh, and shifts it so you straddle his waist. He pulls you closer to him, and deepens the kiss. Just when you start to moan happily, he pulls back a bit, and resumes his languid exploration of your skin. You look up at him and blink. He has a faint blush across his face, but he doesn't seem flustered otherwise. When you roll your hips against his, he grabs them, and hold you still. The boldness leaves you breathless. His pupils are blown wide, and his eyes have a sternness you don't recognize. You squirm a bit, trying to regain some friction, and he grips your hips harder and growls.

 

“Behave.”

 

His voice is deep and stern, and you melt against him. He rubs his thumbs along your hips, and releases his hold on you. He looks at the fire, and the small stack of wood next to it. He makes a small noise of discontentment, and he picks you up off of him and sets you down. When you look up at him, those kind eyes you recognize are looking back.

 

“We need more firewood,” he explained softly. He takes your chin in his hands, and says, “Undress and sit on the bed. Wait for me to come back.”

 

A chill runs down your spine. He grabs his cloak, and nods his head to Inanna, and they both slunk out the door. When the door shuts behind them, you take a moment to breathe. What was he thinking? This has to be some sweet revenge for all the teasing you put him through. What kind of benevolent deity gifted you with this mountain man? You must have been a saint in a past life. You realized you've just been sitting here, and he'll be back any minute. You scramble to stand up, and make your way to the bed. Once undressed, as per his direction, you fold your clothes and place them on the foot of the bed, before sitting on the bed. He told you to sit, but you can't help but tuck your legs under yourself. He might find your kneeling more submissive.

You don't have much chance to contemplate, because the door opened, and you could feel the wind rake over your bare skin, but that's not why you shivered. In the doorway stood Muriel, without Inanna at his side, and he didn't say anything, he didn't even look at you. He just put more wood on the fire, and sat down. He started to whittle away at a fox figure, not even looking at you. You sat in silence for a while, but when it became apparent that he was making you wait, you let out a small whimper. He immediately froze, but he didn't look at you.

 

“Muri…”

 

He stood up with a start, and made his way over to you, relieving himself of his clothes along the way. He lifted your chin with his left hand, and pet at your hair with his right.

 

“Muriel, please,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes.

 

“I didn't say you could speak.”

 

He’s never sounded so commanding, and you shut your mouth by instinct. He lets a satisfied hum pass his lips, and he kneels on the floor. Even kneeling on the floor, he was eye-level with you. He trailed his fingers down the tops of your thighs, and back up, a feather-light touch the whole time. You bit back a whine, and he smiled slightly. He pressed his hands against the inside of your thigh, and spread your legs apart. He pressed gentle kisses up your inner thigh, and just as he got to your core, went back down to your other knee. You whined in frustration, and you felt him smile against your skin. He sucked a hickey into your thigh, and continued moving up. This time, when he got to your center, he moved upwards, pressing gentle kisses to your navel. He took his time working up your body, leaving soft kisses the whole time. He stopped at your chest, playing with your nipples, and sucking dark marks into your skin. You can't help the frustrated whines and moans that pass your lips. He brings his hands up to stroke your sides, soothing you, and working you up further. He stops marking you, and moves up a bit to kiss at your collarbones.

 

“Shh, little one,” he mumbles against your skin, and the sound of his deep voice sends shivers up your spine.

 

“Muri,” you trail off, and he nips at your collarbones.

 

“Speak.”

 

You whine pitifully, “Please!”

 

He smiles against your skin, and rubs his hands on the tops of your thighs. “What is it, little one?”

 

“I need,” you panted, “I need you, please!”

 

Muriel didn’t acknowledge your pleading, so you continued.

 

“Please, Muri, I need you, touch me, please!” You were starting to lose coherency, but Muriel still didn't speak, or change his motions.

 

He kept rubbing the tops of your thighs, and sucking marks onto your collarbones and neck. He moves his thumbs to stroke your inner thighs, but he doesn't do anything else.

 

“Think you deserve a taste of your own medicine, hmm?” He moves his head away from your neck when you don't answer, and you whine. When you look at him, his piercing green eyes are looking at you expectantly.

 

He speaks softly, “Are you alright?”

 

The question almost throws you off, but Muriel has always been sweet. Even as bold as he is today, he would never hurt you, and he would never overstep. But he had spent the last hour teasing, and there is nothing in the world that could satisfy you, other than him.

 

Finally finding your voice, you look into his eyes and whisper, “Yes.”

 

His lips quirk upwards slightly, and he continues kissing at your neck. He presses a gentle kiss to your pulse, and your heart flutters. What could you have done to deserve him?

 

His right hand moves off of your thigh, and he brings one finger to stroke up your folds. When you whine and squirm, he brings his left hand to rub gentle lines up and down your spine. He continues his light ministrations, but they aren't enough. You grind down onto his hand, and he pulls it away. You whine at the loss, and he nips at your neck as a warning. When you're still again, he puts his hand back, with a little more pressure this time. The calloused pad of his finger caught your clit just slightly, and you shake from surprise. He kisses your neck and shushes you as you beg, but he doesn't stop. He strokes his finger down to circle your hole, and he presses against it, but he doesn't let his finger enter you. Instead, he strokes back up and circles around your clit. When your begging gets louder, and more frantic, he moves his finger away from your clit, and slips it into your core. He hums in satisfaction, and searches for that spot inside you. When he finds it, almost immediately, he presses his finger against it and rubs gently, enough pressure to make you feel it, but not nearly enough to make you come. The kisses against your neck have stopped entirely, but you can't be bothered to notice, much less call him out on it. He presses a second finger into you, and your hips buck of their own accord. He stops his movements, and when you calm down, he starts them up again. The hut is filled with your moans, begs, and pleads, all for 'more’.

 

“More what, little one?”

 

All you can do is sob. When he hears you cry out, he pauses, and looks up at you. You don't even have to look at him to know what he's going to ask.

 

“I-” you pant, “'m fine, Muri, I just” you gasp as he brushes his thumb over your clit, “Please! Muri, please, please, I need, need,” you cry out again when a third finger enters you.

 

Whatever concerns he had about you have dissolved, and they were replaced with lust. He keeps fingering you as his thumb rubs your clit, and he uses his left hand to pull you into a deep kiss. When he pulls away, you can't do anything but roll your hips against his hand and beg.

 

“Please!” you bite back a desperate moan, “Please, Muri, let me come, please.”

 

Your rambling continues, just barely stringing “please”, “Muriel”, and “come” together. Muriel hardly even answers, just a soft, “Not yet” against your neck, but his refusal, and that you don't have his permission is enough to keep you from tipping over the edge. He lets you grind against his hand, but he slows down whenever you buck your hips.

 

Soon, you really can't take it anymore. Your pleading becomes more desperate, and frustrated tears fall from your eyes. Muriel kisses your tears away, but he doesn't let you come. He pulls his hand away, and starts to gently stroke your back. He presses soft kisses to your face, and when you come down from a high you never quite reached, he pulls you into his arms, and sits on the bed. After he lets you calm down a bit, he tilts your head up to look at him.

 

“Are you alright?” he asks again. He wouldn’t have to, since he knows you so well, but between the tears, and the glassy look in your eyes, it was much better to be safe than sorry.

 

You take a moment to breathe, but you nod your head, and smile. Muriel looks pleased, and he starts to gently kiss at your neck while he lays you on the bed. He kisses his way down your body, stopping every few moments to suck a mark into your skin. He finally reaches your center, and he spreads your lips open, and presses a soft kiss to your clit. Your hips buck, and he smiles. He keeps placing gentle kisses to your clit, until he surprises you with a broad sweep of his tongue up your folds, just to wrap his lips around your clit and suck. The pitiful moans and pleads you cry out fall upon deaf ears, because he is relentless. It isn’t until you tug at his hair to pull him away that he releases you.

 

“Muri, please…” you trail off, distracted by the lazy circles he makes around your clit with his finger.

 

“Use your words, little one.”

 

You almost growl at him in frustration. “Please, Muri, just fuck me already, please,” you whisper at him, and the need is written all over your face.

 

He knows that you need him, need this. He’s made you wait long enough. He smiles down at you, and presses the head of his cock against your folds.

 

“Have you earned it, little one?”

 

Maybe you haven’t, but who cares? He’s been working you up for hours, and you weren’t going to say no to this in a million years.

 

“Yes,” you struggle to get the word out.

 

He smiles again, and presses into you. You feel the blissful stretch of your walls around him, and you almost sob from pleasure. He starts slow, and you know you won’t be able to last long, not if he keeps using that voice on you.

 

“Muri, please,” you whimper, “please, can I come?”

 

He hums in response, and starts to press his hips to yours with more force, more intent.

 

“Yes, little one, you can come.”

 

Almost immediately, you feel your orgasm wash over you. Your walls tighten, and your nails dig into his back. You cry out for him, but it barely registers in your mind. He fucks you through your orgasm, and doesn’t relent when you come down. He keeps fucking into you, now faster and rougher than before, but still with that hint of gentleness he always had. He brings you to the brink of another orgasm, and this time, even if he had told you not to come, you wouldn’t have been able to not come, not when he’s fucking you like that. Your nails dig in harder, and the edges of your vision go white. You vaguely hear Muriel grunt into your neck, but you feel his come coat your walls. You whine a bit when he pulls out of you. He stands up, and gets a damp cloth to wipe you down. You would move yourself, so he could wipe the sweat off of your back, but your muscles refuse to cooperate. He just wipes you down, and then pulls up a few blankets to cover you. He joins you in the bed, and you immediately snuggle up to his chest. He mumbles something into your hair, and you know exactly what he said, without having to hear it.

“I love you too, Muri.”


End file.
